Defying Gravity
by miyatree
Summary: Reno/Vincent. Reno and Vincent never had any reason to speak to each other until ShinRa makes an unexpected offer to the ex-Turk. The two suddenly find themselves fighting for Edge side by side. Once a Turk, always a Turk.
1. An Unforeseen Meeting

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :) 

**Author's Note: **I was reading some RenoxRufus fanfics the other day that had RenoxVincent as a side pairing, and I thought to myself, '_That's interesting._' At the same time, _Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes_ by the band Fair to Midland came on my iTunes, and the rest is history. I really have no idea where this is going, but that always makes for the best story in my opinion. I hope you enjoy!

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter One: _An Unforeseen Meeting_**

* * *

_These walls don't talk,_  
_Even when somebody knocks,  
These walls don't stand,  
For anyone else but themselves,  
These walls don't fall,  
Even when gravity's failing us all_

- Fair To Midland - Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes

* * *

Oftentimes he was called an open book. 

Reno took a drag from his cigarette as he stared towards the Nibelheim Mountains, pondering why people found him so easy to read. His partner, Rude, was perhaps the complete opposite of him then, as the man had always been very intimidating. It was Reno's audacious personality and Rude's distant one that made them such a perfect team, he'd always thought, because they tended to work well together when thrown in the face of adversity.

Reno knew people thought he was fearless, cocky, and cold-hearted, and he tended to agree with them about most things, but he knew that wasn't a complete truth. What most people _didn't_ see—what Reno wouldn't _let_ them see—was that deep down inside of him he was terrified. He could never pinpoint exactly what it was he was terrified of, but he knew he was terrified.

It wasn't his job, he told himself. Being a Turk was dangerous in and of itself; despite their attempts to fix past mistakes, Turks were still hated around the Planet. Reno couldn't count the number of times his life had been in the way of an assassination attempt, mostly from grieving family members and friends of the innocents he might have been ordered to kill. They were easily taken care of, and it wasn't something Reno worried about. Once a person started to worry, it would be the death of them.

It wasn't his unfortunate habits, as Rufus liked to call them, referring of course to his penchant for alcohol and tobacco over sunshine and daises. He was going to die anyway, so he figured he might as well make the most out of life before his inevitable end. Besides, if he had been terrified of those things, he would have quit them long ago. Instead, he let a lazy smile cross his lips as he took a long drag; letting his feet direct him to Shinra's abandoned mansion.

He was partly terrified of this place, and the things he heard originated from it. As a Turk he was used to murder and deceit, but he considered himself a sensible man. He had never purposely drawn out assassinations or interrogations. He preferred to finish things as cleanly and quickly as possible, earning himself quite a reputation in the underground circuits—everybody knew that if you had to meet a Turk, Reno was the one to meet. He wouldn't let you feel too much pain if he could help it. Thus, the mansion that now stood tall before him sent a chill down the redhead's spine. He knew Hojo had abandoned labs and Gaia knew what else hidden in the depths of its walls. He knew unimaginable horrors had taken place there.

Looking up at the filthy windows and the aged brick, Reno took a double take when his eyes connected with those of another man's. His green-blue eyes widened to an abnormal size, and he cursed. Red eyes glared down at him.

A perfect example of some of the horrifying things done in this mansion was one Vincent Valentine, a former member of the Turks and member of AVALANCHE, and he just so happened to be standing in an upstairs window. Tseng had assured Reno that Vincent would not be at the mansion, and Reno could only assume he was misinformed. Either that, or Tseng had purposely lied to him, although Reno could see no plausible reason for him to want to do that.

"Fuck," Reno muttered, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. He knew the black-haired man disliked the smell of smokes, and since Reno was on a mission, it was best to stay in Vincent's good books.

That is, he thought it best until he stepped in through the front door, immediately lighting up another one, shaking his head and mumbling curses to himself. He'd need the extra comfort of nicotine—his one true friend besides alcohol and Rude—if he was ever going to venture any further in this freak show.

Half expecting the man to jump out of the shadows and scare the shit out of him, Reno was surprised when Vincent appeared at the top of the stairs, one hand embedded in the pocket of his typical black pants and the other clutching the familiar Cerberus. His traditional red cloak was missing, and he had a simple black t-shirt on. _Depressing_, Reno sneered inwardly.

He kept his eyes on the dangerous weapon as he waved the hand holding his cigarette. "Hey, man, how ya' doin'?" He said loudly, trying to be as cheerful as possible. He wasn't sure if that was the right approach to take, considering Vincent's silent response, but he continued anyway. "Yeah, listen. I, uh, didn't expect ya to be here and I kind of need ta look around a bit, so if you'll just—"

Vincent's gun arm raised, and Reno bit his lip as he stared down the three barrels of Cerberus, half-wishing he hadn't come. "Leave."

"Can't really do that, man, not yet at least. Can I just—"

"This is my house. Leave."

"Ya live here now, eh? How's that hangin' for ya? You've certainly spruced the place up a lot…" Reno said, trying his best not to glance around at the decaying room they were standing in. "Ya wanna give me the grand tour?"

"No. Leave now."

Reno sighed, rolling his eyes. "Listen, you an' I both know ya ain't gonna shoot me, so can ya at least listen to what I have ta say?"

Vincent stared at him, an unreadable look in his eyes. They stood in silence for several moments, during which Reno nervously sucked on his cigarette, hoping to contract some sort of sudden cancer on the spot just to get him out of the situation. He dropped the cigarette, though, when a deafening _bang! _echoed in his ears and a bullet came soaring past his head.

He choked on his saliva, instinctively grasping his EMR, but even as he did so he regretted it. He should have known that was a warning shot, but by holding out the EMR, he had practically accepted a fight. "No, wait!" He screamed, tripping over his own feet in an attempt to escape. "Tseng sent me! All I need to do is grab some files from Hojo's lab, man, I swear! Then I'll be gone!" He ducked inside a room, which turned out to be the (surprisingly clean) kitchen, before realising that the firing had stopped.

Footsteps made their way softly down the stairs, and Reno almost cried upon realising death was imminent. Don't mistake—the redhead wasn't afraid of death, but dying in this situation would not have been on the top of his list. He closed his eyes, sliding down the wall as he tried to telepathically send his last wishes to his best friend, Rude. _You can have my EMR, buddy, and my CD collection. Send my middle finger to Tseng for putting me in to this situation, okay? If it isn't blown off in a second, I mean._

As Vincent rounded the corner and placed the muzzle of the gun against Reno's forehead, the redhead realised what he was truly terrified of. His knee started shaking and he but his lip to keep from pleading for his life—to keep whatever dignity he had left.

It scared him not because he was going to die, but because he had no control over the situation. With his job, at least he knew what he was getting in to, and the same went for his bad habits. Even with the mansion, he knew that he might be sickened by some of the things he saw inside, and he accepted that.

Vincent was unexpected, and the idea of dying from uncontrollable or surprising circumstances scared the living shit out of Reno.

He opened his mouth, ready to explain the situation one more time, when Vincent's dark, deep voice interrupted him.

"What purpose do you have with Hojo's files?"

His eyes opened and stared up in shock, wondering if he had misheard. "Ya aren't gonna' shoot me?"

"That is still to be decided."

Nodding slowly, Reno breathed in as the gun was lowered back to Vincent's side. "To the best of my knowledge, Rufus wants 'em destroyed."

"Why?"

"How the fuck am I s'pposed ta know? All I know is that I was ordered to retrieve them." As an irritated look crossed Vincent's eyes, Reno elaborated. "It's probably 'cause he don't want nobody ta use 'em for their own diabolical means, ya know?"

An awkward silence passed during which each man attempted to out-stare the other, and finally Reno dropped his gaze to the floor. He heard Vincent move further in to the room, and he nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. "Are you thirsty?"

If he were positive doing so wouldn't have gotten him killed, Reno would have laughed at the sudden change of topic. All the same, he had to wonder what the hell was wrong with the man. "You're seriously offerin' me somethin' to drink?" At Vincent's nod, Reno shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I'll take anything with alcohol in it."

Vincent, who was already in the process of pouring himself a glass of wine, took out another glass. After a minute, he handed it to Reno and sat down at the table, glancing at the redhead with a quirked brow. Reno took the hint and removed himself from the floor, stumbling in to his own chair. They both sat there, sipping their own respective glasses of white wine. Reno stared at Vincent curiously, while the latter steadied his gaze on his wine glass.

"Have you gone insane?" Reno blurted out, unable to take the strangeness of the situation any longer.

Vincent glanced at him and set his glass down. "I hold no hard feelings for the Turks. To do so would be hypocritical. I am simple being… polite." He took a pause. "If you would rather get your files right now, I can lead you there."

Reno was tempted to deny the offer in favour of some more wine (it was delicious, he had to admit—Vincent had good taste), but he knew the mission was supposed to be a quick one. In and out, he thought, nothing more than half-an-hour at most. He was already twenty minutes behind schedule.

He shook his head. "Yeah, that'd probably be best, actually. I know my way there, don't worry." He stood up and Vincent mimicked the action.

"I hold no hard feelings for you, but I do not yet trust you completely." He led the way out of the kitchen. "I will take you there."

Reno resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting rid of the man any time soon and followed him as they made their way down to Hojo's lab. As they passed the room Reno knew Vincent spent many years sleeping in, a shiver ran down his spine. He didn't like this place at all, and he was surprised the brooding man had decided to come back after all was said and done. Had it been Reno, he would have packed up and gotten himself a place at Costa del Sol, or probably even Wutai—they had great booze in Wutai. A slow smirk drifted over his lips as he thought about it, thinking that perhaps he should pay Yuffie a visit some day.

"Take as long as you need," Vincent said, startling Reno out of his thoughts. "I will be around." With that he turned around and left, leaving Reno to roll his eyes. He suspected that the man was too familiar with wearing a cape because the swiftness of the turn suggested so.

With a shake of his head and a defeated sigh, Reno got to work.


	2. The Offer

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

**Author's Note: **Whoo, I have a general idea of where this is going now. Feels great. My fingers are itching to write smex, but I am going to hold out for a long while. I want this to actually have a point, not just be in existence for the smut. So, stay with me guys! Thanks to Draco's Daughter, Vaishin, and Aeriths-Rain for being the first people to review! Your comments made me smile.

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Two: _The Offer  
_**

* * *

_These walls don't talk,  
Even when somebody knocks,  
These walls don't stand,  
For anyone else but themselves,  
These walls don't fall,  
Even when gravity's failing us all_

- Fair To Midland - Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes

* * *

Reno had a slight problem when it came to Rufus' office. Whenever anybody was called there, especially the Turks, it was never a good thing. He could distinctly remember the last time he had set foot in the ridiculously expansive room. Elena and him had just finished an assassination mission which had worn them both down quite a bit—their target was quick, and obviously had more experience than his file had let on. In the end, they'd brought him down, but not before he shot a bullet straight through Elena's shoulder. Reno, who was supposed to be protecting the rookie, had failed to see the gun in time, and that failure was the reason he was called down to speak with Rufus.

That mishap had cost him two weeks pay, and he'd made a point not to screw up ever again, which was why he was rather confused about being called down now. To the best of his memory, he hadn't messed anything up lately—his last mission was to retrieve the files at Shinra's mansion, and that had been completed successfully. Well, as successful as a mission could have gone with Vincent Valentine thrown in to the mix.

Either way, that wasn't enough to warrant Rufus' attention.

Biting his lip as he stubbed out his cigarette—because Rufus was one person you _did not_ want to smoke around—Reno walked up to the grand oak doors. He tossed a wink at Rufus' secretary, who simply ignored him. She'd dealt with Reno enough to know his flirtatious nature, and she wasn't about to be pulled in. "Go on in," she said, pressing the buzzer to let Rufus know Reno had arrived.

The redhead sighed and pushed the doors open, keeping his eyes locked on the floor as he walked in and closed them. "Ya wanted ta see me, Sir?"

"Sit down."

Reno cracked his fingers as he sat down (a nervous habit gained from his childhood in the slums) and finally looked up. He held back a resigned sigh when he saw Tseng standing off to the right of Rufus' expensive desk. If whatever he had done required Tseng's presence as well, Reno assumed he was pretty much fired.

Turning his attention to the President in front of him, he recognized that the man was irritated. He was usually angry, but the way he tapped his pen notified Reno that it'd be best if he kept his mouth shut. Papers, disks, and videos littered the desk, and Reno frowned. They were Hojo's documents. They were the ones Reno had gathered the day before. Wondering what he could have possibly done wrong, Reno looked back at Rufus with a questioning look in his eyes.

"Sir?"

"You missed something, Reno. Of all the things you could have missed, you missed the thing that matters most."

As he slammed the pen down and leaned forward in his chair, Rufus Shinra continued speaking. "Vincent's files, Reno. They aren't here. I don't know what sort of deal you struck with him…"

"Deal?" Reno repeated, confused as ever, but smart enough to move his chair back. "Sir, I didn't—"

"With all due respect, Sir, Reno has no reason to strike any sort of deal with Valentine. It's more likely that Valentine has already disposed of them, or hidden them somewhere." Tseng interrupted, giving his subordinate a harsh look of warning—_shut up, Reno, while you still have the chance_. "I will gladly pay a visit to him and see what—"

"No," Rufus muttered, standing up. He pulled an envelope from one of his drawers and passed it to Reno. "Reno will go back and sort things out." He linked his hands behind his back and stood in front of the only window in his office, staring out at Edge. Shinra had managed to re-establish its hold on Midgar's replacement, but it hadn't come easy. Rufus took a few minutes every day to remember his duty. He was going to make up for Midgar, and he was going to earn Edge's trust once and for all.

After a moment, he announced, "If you fail this time, Reno, consider yourself demoted."

* * *

"This is fucking unfair," Reno whined as both he and Tseng entered the elevator to take them down to the Department of Administrative Research. "I'm the one who gets blamed even though Vamp-Boy did all the shit ta be blamed for."

"You should have known Vincent wouldn't trust anybody with his information. The least you could have done is asked."

"An' what! He woulda shot my ass outta there so fast, I'd be sayin' hi to the lifestream before I even knew what happened."

Tseng cringed, quickly stepping out of the confining space as the elevator doors opened. "You may not like it, Reno, but you will have to deal with it." He gave him a sharp look before the doors closed. "I don't want to see you back here until you have Valentine's files."

Reno clenched his fist as he pressed the button to take him down to the parking levels. "Fuck…" He muttered. He glanced down at the manila envelope clutched within his hands, and took the time to open it and hopefully gain some insight in to why the hell Shinra needed Vincent Valentine's information so badly.

* * *

It was the last thing Reno thought he would be doing on a Friday night, and it wasn't something he was looking forward to either. It was for this reason that he didn't even bother knocking on the imposing doors of the mansion that met him, instead content to just stroll in unannounced. Vincent was probably going to kill him in any case, so he might as well go out in style.

Relieved that he wasn't met with the wrong end of Cerberus, Reno cast his eyes around the dark entrance. It was late—9:45pm to be exact—and there was no sign of the ex-Turk. Still wary, Reno tiptoed in to the kitchen to make sure. When he discovered it empty and dark, he frowned. Well, if Vincent wasn't going to protect his alcohol, he figured he ought to have a drink. Grabbing a beer from the fridge (he was wary of who the package belonged to, since the black-haired man didn't seem the type to drink the cheap stuff; Reno decided they must've been Barret or Cid's), he twisted the cap off and took a swig, smiling at the familiar taste.

As he idly knocked half of the bottle back, he decided to take advantage of Vincent's absence. _Time to do some exploring_¸ he thought.

He wandered around the house, not really bothering to hide his presence because sooner or later he'd have to talk to the man who lived there. He searched room after room for any hidden documents, but realized it was futile. Vincent would never leave something as significant as his files out in the open, so the only way to get a hold of them would be through asking.

Something Reno was not looking forward to at all.

"Yo, Vince! Ya here?" Reno shouted, jumping at a small thump from behind him. Whirling around, he discovered that it was just a cat. The feline's sleek, raven fur and piercing eyes reminded Reno a lot of whom he assumed was the cat's owner. He shuddered as it passed him by. He was never very suspicious, but given the atmosphere and mission he was on, his nerves were on edge.

Picking up the pace a little, Reno proceeded through the upper levels of the house until he came to a closed door that looked like it was frequently used. This would probably be his final destination, he mused, watching as a soft light flickered from underneath the doorframe. He knocked on it gently. "V-Vincent?" He cursed the animal now rubbing against his leg for making him stutter, and tried again. "Vincent, it's Reno again. From the Turks…"

A moment passed during which Reno thought he might pass out on the spot, and then there were clunking footsteps approaching the door, and he was positive he was about to die. For safety's sake, he placed his hand on his gun and bit his lip.

When the door opened, Reno couldn't have been more shocked.

"You cut your hair," Reno said in a tiny voice. His fear was forgotten in the oddness of the moment. He held back a snort, noticing that Vincent had seemed weirder ever since Kadaj's gang was finished off. Weirder, perhaps, only because it was simply so out-of-character to see him wear any clothing other than black and red, and for him to act cold and mysterious. Now he almost seemed…

Reno paused.

"And you have a cat," he stated.

Vincent arched an eyebrow. "Why are you here this time?"

Reno shook his head and laughed slightly. "Oh, ya know. Jus' couldn't get enough of ya last time…" He rolled his eyes as he stepped in. "Nah, seriously, I need more files."

"I thought you had collected all of them," Vincent started, twitching as Reno made himself comfortable on his couch, "when you were here last. There's more?"

"I got everythin' in Hojo's lab, yeah," Reno said, stretching his neck to see around the dimly lit room. A fireplace crackled in front of him and a gigantic bed was to his back, it's sheets neatly folded and pillows fluffed. The entire room _reeked_ of Vincent Valentine in its colours and atmosphere. Reno had to wonder if the man had a fetish for black and red. "But, uhh… well, ya probably aren't gonna like this, but I'm just the messenger so don't shoot me. We need _your_ files. The ones Hojo had about his experiments on you and shit."

"Those are gone, not that I would hand them over to the Turks in the first place."

Reno winced. "Figured as much." He stood up and drank the last of the beer he still held. "Ya don't have copies or anythin'?"

"Why does Shinra need my files?" There was a dangerous tone there, and Reno reminded himself to play it safe. He walked to the fireplace and tapped his fingers against the mantle, enjoying the warmth.

"Ah, can't really tell ya that 'cuz I don't know much myself." He hesitated as Vincent stared at him, clearly sensing the lie. After a second, he wavered. "Alright, alright… Ya know Shinra's tryin' ta correct the past an' all? Well, Rufus wants ta fix _your _past."

"I need no fixing." Vincent bit out as he strolled forward and grabbed the empty beer bottle out of Reno's hand. He tossed it in to a tiny garbage can at the corner of the room and stood there, apparently thinking. He bent his head and sighed.

Reno watched him out of curiosity mostly, believing that the side he was seeing of Vincent Valentine was a side not many people got to see. He watched as the man moved to the door, hesitated, and then turned back to him.

"You should leave."

"We can get them outta your head, Vincent," Reno offered, rooted to the spot. He couldn't leave. Coming back empty-handed would be a good deal worse than suffering a bruise or two from Valentine. "Chaos, and the others."

"I don't need—"

"Can't ya just talk ta Rufus then? Ya don't need ta bring your file," because at this point Reno was sure some sort of file still existed, "but just hear him out. I can't really come back without nuthin'. Think about my job, man."

It was a desperate plea that he knew would have no effect, considering the uncharacteristic snort he received. "I'd be doing the world a favour by having you fired."

"Ouch," Reno muttered sarcastically. "I don't really give a shit what ya think of the Turks or Shinra, 'cause this has nuthin' ta do with 'em. We're offerin' ta fix ya, dude. _Cure you_, whatever ya wanna call it." He crossed his arms across his chest and cocked his head. "Ya'd be dumb not ta try."

Vincent's gaze moved from the redhead to the crackling fire beside him, and it seemed to stay there for quite a while. He brought a hand to his head and rubbed his temple, letting his eyes shut briefly before turning them back to the Turk.

"I will speak with Rufus Shinra, but that is it."

Reno could have jumped for joy, but he figured it was best to hold it in. Instead, he let a large breath escape his lips and moved his eyes heavenwards. That was one thing accomplished, and one awkward thing left to ask.

"Great, but do ya think ya can let me stay here for the night? It's late, an' my apartment is in the Shinra building… I'd be demoted if I came back without ya."

Vincent lifted a hand in the air and waved it about his head, nodding. "You may. There is a guest room down the hall to your left."

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it." He yawned, making his way to the door. "We'll leave at noon tomorrow," he said lazily.

He didn't stay to see Vincent's answering nod.


	3. Dealings With Deviants

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Vaishin (you are correct about Rufus' actions being suspicious), MoroTheWolfGod, and Aeriths-Rain for reviewing!

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Dealings With Deviants**

* * *

_These walls don't talk,  
Even when somebody knocks,  
These walls don't stand,  
For anyone else but themselves,  
These walls don't fall,  
Even when gravity's failing us all_

- Fair To Midland - Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes

* * *

Vincent Valentine couldn't sleep.

It was late, around three in the morning if he had to guess, and the only peace he had gotten that night was the brief seconds during which he settled himself in to his bed. As he lay still after that, waiting for sleep to overcome his body, his mind wandered without his permission. Vincent Valentine didn't worry, but he was curious. He was a little suspicious of Shinra's motives—being freed of his demons was certainly something he was looking forward to (if he so chose to advance with the procedure), but Vincent was no idiot. He had once been a Turk. He knew how Shinra worked.

They would never offer something like this if they didn't expect something in return.

His thoughts plagued him for hours until he finally gave up and threw the sheets off of his body. As his feet padded across his bedroom floor, navigating around his boots and gun that he always kept by his bedside, he wasn't entirely sure where he was going.

_**We could go mess with the redhead**_, Chaos spoke to only him, and Vincent sighed. It seemed his demons couldn't get any sleep either. Ignoring the persistent voices agreeing with Chaos, Vincent travelled past Reno's door and down to the kitchen where he prepared himself a glass of warm milk. He didn't require sustenance of any kind, really, but there were some finer things in life he found he was unable to give up. He never made his appreciation of warm milk public, because he knew for some reason he would never hear the end of it from Cid and Barret (who had a habit of stopping by to raid his alcohol supply, thus forcing Vincent to hide the milk at the very back of the fridge).

He looked at the calendar Tifa had pinned to the wall (_'So you don't completely lose track of time locked up in here.'_) and frowned. The frequency of Cid and Barret's visits had been cut down quite a bit. The last time he had seen either of them was three weeks ago, and that was when Cid had dropped by for a quick drink, only to leave soon after to continue his errands. Come to think of it, everybody in AVALANCE seemed busier recently, with the exception of Vincent himself, and Yuffie, who Vincent simply hadn't seen in almost a year.

Barret had wed last year (the very occasion Vincent had last seen Yuffie), and was becoming quite the family man, allowing little time for travel when his wife became pregnant. Now, at seven months in to the pregnancy (with twins, they had discovered), and having to take care of Marlene as well… Barret had all but cut ties with his past drinking habits.

Cid, on the same scale, was fast becoming the most popular airship captain around, and was finding himself with more work to do when his engineer left on a pregnancy leave. Of course, his home life became hectic when the very engineer, his wife Shera, got hit with a large dose of hormones (_'It's like never-ending PMS, Vince, I swear.'_).

Tifa and Cloud launched a large orphanage (while handing ownership of Seventh Heaven over to a friend), and rarely had time to so much as call any of their old friends in between cleaning up mud stains and finding room for the poor children constantly showing up ever since Bahamut was summoned by Kadaj.

Red XIII, or Nanaki as everyone had taken to calling him, was busy watching over Cosmo Canyon, but Vincent suspected he wouldn't want to leave even if he had the chance. The ex-Turk could respect that.

Reeve was gaining much political power within Shinra, and any time he did manage to get off was often spent sleeping. Cait Sith, as far as Vincent knew, had not been used in several years.

Vincent wasn't exactly a social person, but he'd be lying if he said the company wasn't appreciated. It was sad that he never got to visit the others, but he knew it was partly his own fault. He was entirely capable of going out and visiting _them_, it had just never been a plausible option for him. He had had enough of travelling and was quite prepared to settle down.

A glance at the clock told him that if he had any ideas of sleeping that night, he should hurry up. He placed his empty glass of warm milk in the sink and silently walked back up to his room, whereupon he shut the door, climbed in to bed, and shut his eyes.

The warm milk seemed to be doing its job, and within a few minutes Vincent felt himself begin to drift. That is, he was drifting until a loud _thud!_ from down the hall jerked him wide-awake. A barrage of curses filled the air, and Vincent glared at the ceiling.

It appeared sleep was never going to be an option. Rubbing his temples, Vincent decided he wouldn't kill the Turk in the other room. After all, in his current state Vincent didn't really require sleep all that much.

Bitterness flowed through him, and he found himself anxiously waiting for morning to come.

* * *

There was a beige folder sitting on the kitchen table when Reno made his way downstairs at eight o'clock the next morning. He stared at it for a few seconds before turning his attention to the man sitting in front of it, who also seemed to find it interesting.

Deciding not to ask, the redhead tossed himself carelessly in to a chair and buried his head on the table, letting out a childish whine. It was much too early.

"We are not leaving until noon, as you said, so you are welcome to go back to sleep," said the deep voice of Vincent Valentine. Reno resisted the urge to glare at him, instead content to beat his head softly against the surface of the table.

"I can't. I tried. I've been up since four-fuckin'-thirty, man. Fell off the freakin' bed." He explained it in such a manner that implied it was a natural occurrence. With a sigh, he lifted his head. "Ya wouldn't happen ta have breakfast, would ya?"

At the man's blank stare, Reno shook his head. He stood up and pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. As he slipped them over his eyes, Reno waved his hand. "Let's go then. I ain't goin' ta Shinra on an empty stomach."

It took a moment for Vincent to stand up from the table himself, and Reno pretended not to notice when the man placed the ominous folder in to his coat. He stood to the side to let the man lead the way, since he no doubt knew the better breakfast places in Nibelheim.

Their breakfast, or rather Reno's breakfast since the raven-haired man declined to eat anything, was spent in silence. Reno paid, and twitched his fingers around as he debated what to do next. It was only ten o'clock, and he really didn't want to show up at Shinra any earlier than he had to. Vincent seemed to decide for him, though.

"There are books in the room to your right. Feel free to read until we leave. If you find yourself getting thirsty, you know where the kitchen is." With that, he disappeared upstairs, leaving Reno to his own devices.

"Trusting guy," Reno mumbled, walking to the room Vincent had mentioned a second before. He hadn't lied. Hundreds of books lined the walls and Reno, who hadn't willingly read a book in his entire life, found himself impressed. They must have been Hojo's books, but the collection either way was enormous.

Running his hand nonchalantly along one shelf, he picked one at random and sat down in a rather dusty, worn, green chair. Flipping the book open (there didn't appear to be a title or, for that matter, an author, but Reno was too bored to even identify that detail as odd), the Turk began to read.

It was two hours later that the door to the room opened, startling Reno from the surprisingly enthralling read. He wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish by tossing the book underneath his chair, as if trying to hide the embarrassing fact that he was actually _enjoying_ a book, but the odd look from Vincent made him blush. "Ah, I—I'm just skimming." The man slowly nodded, not commenting on the redhead's oddities.

"It is noon."

Reno bit his lip. "Already? Man…" He stood up and awkwardly pulled the book out from beneath the chair, placing it back in the shelves. "Alright then. Let's go. My chopper's just outside of town."

* * *

Rufus Shinra didn't bother to look up from his desk when his secretary let Reno in to the room. He continued signing the paperwork before him, and it was a few minutes later when he placed his pen down that he finally graced the redhead with an acknowledging glance. He was surprised to see (and somewhat embarrassed at having ignored) Vincent Valentine standing beside the Turk, face buried deep in the collar of his red cloak.

Rufus stood up and looked at Reno (who was fidgeting and praying that his job was safe) and gave him a short nod. "Thank you, Reno. You may leave." Reno hesitated for a moment, but breathed a sigh of relief when Rufus elaborated. "I have assigned a mission to Rude that he may need your help with. He's in his office, I believe." Reno gave a brief bow and turned around, flashing Vincent a cheeky grin before making his way out of the office.

As the door shut once again, Rufus sat back down. "Please sit," he said, motioning towards the chair in front of his desk that few people were actually allowed to sit in.

"I prefer to stand."

Rufus nodded, leaning back. "I suppose you're here to find out why I need your files—"

"I am well aware of why you need them, or at least I am well aware of what Reno has told me." Vincent crossed his arms. "I am here because I want to know the reason you wish to help me."

"We don't _wish_ to help you so much as it is our duty." Vincent remained silent, and Rufus tapped his fingers along his desk. "I really wish you would sit down, Vincent. This isn't a trap."

A tense moment followed, and the clock ticked on stroke after stroke—the sound was almost deafening to the President. Clearly not desiring to, but simply in hopes of moving the conversation along, Vincent sat down. His arms never left their crossed position, and Rufus hoped the man wasn't always this distrustful.

The man nodded, urging the blond to go on.

"As an employee of Shinra—and a valuable one at that, being a Turk—it is a disgrace to this company the way you were treated. Professor Hojo had no right to do the things he did, and while inconvenient events make us unable to punish him, we feel that it is our duty to reimburse you for your… injuries." Rufus opened his desk drawer and pulled out a folder that he did not open. He set it on his desk and slid it towards Vincent. "It's a procedure that works and has been tested, so I assure you it's safe. It might comfort you to know that your friend Reeve Tuesti was a major help in developing it."

Vincent eyed the folder for along while, a frown outlining his features. "How could you possibly have tested it?"

Rufus was ready for this question, and while he knew Vincent wouldn't like his answer, he had no choice. "They were death row inmates, Vincent. They were going to die anyway. We infected one, treated him, and perfected the procedure based upon his results. Only four were harmed. The fifth was a success, but he has already been terminated as decreed."

Anger flashed across red eyes, and Vincent's hands shook. "You gave people my curse. I can't forgive that." He stood up and pushed his chair back. "That makes you no better than _Professor _Hojo."

Turning his back on the President, he swiftly walked to the door. Rufus panicked. "They were going to die soon anyway, Vincent, and their crimes deserved far worse than that if you want my opinion. How can you possibly be angry about what we did to a father who raped his own wife and murdered his only child in front of her? They _deserved_ it, Vincent. Would you please just sit down and listen?"

Vincent stopped in front of the door, hand gripping the doorknob so tightly it shook. He spoke. "No one deserves these demons."

Rufus bit his lip. "Maybe so, but you least of all. Sit down, Vincent."

The doorknob stilled as Vincent's gloved hand let it go. He sat down in the abandoned chair once again, eyes trained on the desk in front of him. "Explain the treatment."

Rufus sighed and followed suit, situating himself back in his chair. "It lasts one month. Three weeks are for the treatment itself, and the last week is a period of time during which we must watch to make sure everything has gone smoothly. I couldn't explain the specifics personally, but if you agree to it the doctors would be happy to do so. There are no side effects, apart from possible nausea and vomiting, exhaustion, or dizzy spells during the procedure time. During the month you will be required to stay here at Shinra, of course, but after you are free to do as you wish."

Rufus glanced to the folder he had placed on his desk. "More details are in there, if you care to read up on the scientific aspect of it. All we would need from you are your files… to be sure we have all the correct data imputed in our systems. Reno wasn't able to find them, so I'm assuming they no longer exist?"

Vincent begrudgingly pulled the folder Reno had seen that morning out of his cloak. He passed it over to Rufus, who accepted it without a word. "Very well. Do you want to go through with this, then?" At Vincent's nod, he leaned forward and stuck his hand out. "I'm glad."

The ex-Turk eyed Rufus' hand warily, recognizing the significance of accepting it. He closed his eyes and breathed out a small sigh. It was something he wanted desperately, he knew, and if he had to get it from Shinra, then he supposed there was no other choice to be made.

Their handshake was a quick one.

"If you would prefer to start right away, we already have a room set up for you. You are, of course, welcome to go back to Nibelheim and collect your belongings. I will send Reno out with the helicopter."

Ten minutes later found Vincent standing in an all too familiar elevator with an amused redhead.

"Just think, you're gonna' _age_ again, Vincent, an you'll have ta actually eat breakfast in the mornin'."

Vincent would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to it.


	4. Minus One

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Vaishin, Draco's Daughter (many thanks for the crit! I haven't had time to fix it as I write this, but hopefully once I post this chapter), and Aeriths-Rain for reviewing! Apologies for the late update. D:

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Minus One**

* * *

_These walls don't talk,  
Even when somebody knocks,  
These walls don't stand,  
For anyone else but themselves,  
These walls don't fall,  
Even when gravity's failing us all_

- Fair To Midland - Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes

* * *

It was raining when Reno and Vincent returned from Nibelheim. Reno led the raven-haired man to a room that was, Vincent found out, situated on the same floor as Reno's own. "Need ta' have someone here ta' watch over ya an' shit," Reno had explained, although Vincent supposed his cheery disposition was all an act. Turks did have permanent residences outside of the Shinra building after all and, judging from the bare living room he had seen from the Turk's briefly opened door, it didn't look like Reno used the Shinra apartments much.

"Yer stuff should be in yer room already, so yeah… here's a key." The silver object was handed over to him. "If ya need anythin', just knock on my door. The first meeting with th' docs is at eight tomorrow, so be ready ten minutes ahead of time or somethin', and I'll take ya down there. G'night." He tossed a hand up in the air and gave it a small wave before dropping it back down to his side, strolling in to his own apartment. Vincent's eye twitched, but he followed suit and turned around to the door of his temporary apartment.

Inside hadn't changed all that much from Vincent's own Turk days, he noticed. The walls were still a pasty green colour, and the man was disgusted to see they even had the same plaid bed sheets. He figured the company would have at least changed that much after the new building had been built, but apparently interior design wasn't one of their strong points.

Vincent snorted, thinking back to the dreary Nibelheim mansion: it wasn't like he was one to talk.

As he unconsciously compared the mansion to this tiny room, Vincent couldn't help but feel a little lonely, a feeling that not only made him embarrassed, but melancholy. The silence in this room was the same as in his mansion, yet it made him miss his old friends even more.

Now that he was in Edge, Vincent decided he would pay a little visit to Cloud and Tifa's orphanage. Perhaps he would even see Reeve in the numerous halls of the Shinra building.

A frown fit his lips briefly as he crawled underneath the sheets of the bed. First thing first, he would have to face the doctors the next morning.

* * *

The pulsing lights of the nightclub were distracting to Neilson's eyes as he roamed through the moving crowds, searching for a certain woman. He smiled as she finally became visible. She was serving a group of barely legal (although if he had to guess, they were probably underage) teenagers some martinis, and under the haze of smoke Neilson saw the panicked look in her eyes. He smirked. So she knew he was there.

It was her own error, though, that had led to this, and Neilson didn't really feel any remorse over what he was about to do. Sure, he would miss the companionship she gave him on some nights, but there were always other girls. She wasn't anything special anyway. Her legs weren't nearly as long as Vicki's, for example. He glanced at the other waitress to his right with a smirk.

Yuffie Kisaragi could easily be replaced.

She turned on her heel and made her way to the bar, stuffing a nice wad of cash in her pocket. Neilson took note of the money—there was no reason he shouldn't take it. He didn't want it to go to waste, after all. Following her path, he stepped up behind her and wrapped an arm around her flat stomach, placing a soft kiss on her ear. "You've done something bad, Yuffie." She tensed up, and upon receiving and odd look from the bartender she plastered a fake smile to her face.

"Neilson… Hey, Ernie, I'm going to take a break for a few minutes alright? Just going for a smoke." The bartender waved a hand at her and she grabbed Neilson's arm. The two calmly walked to the back exit. As they stepped out into the dark alleyway, she whirled around. "I told you not to come back here. I told you to leave me the fuck alone."

"We would gladly have left you alone if you had of followed our instructions, Yuf."

"No!" She bit out, taking a step back. "You do _not_ get to call me that, and I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do." He smiled and slowly slid his hand in to his pocket, taking pleasure as she started to shake. "Marlowe isn't pleased. You've been talking to the Turks, Yuffie. That's a big no-no."

"I haven't—"

Neilson ignored her and brought out a sleek semi-automatic pistol, turning it around as if to check for scratches. Satisfied, he pointed it at her forehead. She tripped and fell to the dirty ground, eyes wide and palms sweaty. "Neilson, Neilson, please don't. I didn't tell them anything important. They just happened to be there. I swear, Neilson, please don't kill me." He said nothing and removed the safety. "Oh god, don't do this. Don't do this! People will find out. I'm part of AVALANCHE. They'll search for you. You can't do this."

"I find it ironic that somebody of your standing is serving crackheads in a place like this. If you're so strong, Yuffie, stop me yourself." He looked at her, daring her to fight back.

"You know I can't beat you. _Radek_, please."

He laughed. "No, Yuffie. _You _don't get to call me that."

The dancers inside the club didn't hear the gunshot over the beat of the music, and if they did they knew better than to get involved. At the bar, Ernie bowed his head and sighed. In the back alleyway, Neilson pushed a piece of hair behind the dead Yuffie's ear and closed her eyes.

Pocketing her tips, he left. A successful assassination always sparked his appetite.

* * *

As Reno led Vincent down to the labs in the basement of the new Shinra building, he tossed a few winks to the various female employees doing their work, and received a few glares in return. He had quite the reputation, and it wasn't necessarily good. In fact, the women had collectively decided to call him Sleep-And-Leave, although he didn't know that.

He left the ex-Turk with the doctors—he really had no desire to hear all the medical shit—and after wishing him luck made his way up to Tseng's office. Last night he had been notified of a significant development in the case of a prominent drug lord, and the meeting this morning was supposed to be an important one.

Twenty minutes later, he gaped at his boss. He hadn't expected it to be quite _that_ shocking.

"Kisaragi's dead?!" He shouted. "No fuckin' way. That kid was awesome."

"Apparently her awesome didn't hold up against Marlowe's gang. She knew this might happen when she talked to us, so we really shouldn't dwell on her death. AVALANCHE will be notified, and that will be the end of it." Tseng sighed when the surprise stayed on the redhead's face. "You're welcome to attend her funeral. I understand it will be held at Wutai in one week."

Elena, standing to the left of Reno, looked down to the ground. "It's too bad… she was nice."

"How she even managed to tangle herself up in this bullshit is beyond me," Reno muttered. At his right, Rude remained silent, sunglasses hiding any shock he might have felt.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that they killed her for a reason. They know we talked to her, and any lead we might have had on this case has just disappeared. I sent Elena down to the warehouse Yuffie told us about earlier, and everything has been destroyed. They've changed locations.

"Our best bet now is to tail the man who murdered her. The bartender at Yuffie's place of work said she called him Neilson. Along with his description, her killer was one Radek Neilson. He does all of Marlowe's dirty work. The only piece of information we have on him location-wise is that every night at ten he visits the bar down on Yardly Avenue. I've already assigned Rude to watch over him and attempt to follow him back to their new hideout.

"Once we find that, I will hold another meeting detailing our infiltration. You're all dismissed." The Turks filed out of Tseng's office with a dejected slump to their shoulders. Each had been a friend to the young Yuffie Kisaragi in some way, and the news of her death had been anything but easy.

"What really sucks about this is that I'm the one who has to tell AVALANCHE," Elena stated as they rounded the corner and each headed to their respective offices. Reno whistled.

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically. "You could do me a favour, though. Can you tell Vincent? You know him better than I do."

Reno decided not to mention the fact that he had only _really_ started talking to the man a few days ago when he saw the desperate look in Elena's eyes. "Yeah, okay." She thanked him and Reno wondered what the hell he was thinking.

He'd have to find the right moment and make sure the man didn't have a gun near him.

When he picked Vincent up a few hours later, the doctor informed him that he was very drugged up at the moment, and would likely be sick later on. Somebody would need to watch over him. Reno nodded and slung the man's arm over his shoulders, slowly walking him back to his apartment.

Suddenly, Reno stopped. "You have your gun, Vince?" A sluggish moan was his reply, and they started walking again. "I hate doing this to you now, but I don't want you to kill me later on. I've got something to tell you."

* * *

The doctor had failed to mention that whatever drugs were clogging up Vincent's system made him uncharacteristically emotional. Currently Reno sat on Vincent's bed, awkwardly patting the man on the back as he cried in to his hands. Reno admitted that he probably shouldn't have said Vincent wouldn't be able to attend the funeral due to his frailty at the moment, but he did find some sort of relief in the fact that his comment was not met with the dangerous end of a gun.

"'Lena's goin' to be notifying the other AVALANCHE guys. If ya want, I can see if Cloud or Tifa will come to visit you or somethin'."

As the crying continued, Reno sighed. He'd try to reason with the man later, he thought, rocking him back and forth.

* * *

Vincent woke up a few hours later feeling miserable. He felt stiff, his eyes were sore, and he had the largest headache he'd ever had before. It took him a few moments to remember the events after his first appointment, and when he did he couldn't even find the strength to sit up.

If he had only tried to find her when she wouldn't pick up her cell phone all those years ago, he could have prevented this.

Bile rose in his throat and he twisted his head over the right side of the bed, hot tears stinging his eyes as he vomited, staining the beige carpets. It felt like it wouldn't stop, and he coughed, spitting up some foul liquid since he never ate anyway. He felt the hand on his back and recognized it as a small comfort, but only until he realized who it was.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed, wiping his mouth on the bed sheets.

"The doc said this might happen. He gave me some meds." Reno grabbed a glass of water from the desk and lifted it to Vincent's lips, urging him to drink it. "I mixed it into the water so it'd be easier to take."

Vincent gladly drank from the glass, taking deep breaths once he was finished. He crawled up on to the bed and tried to fight down more waves of nausea.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake ya up for yer next appointment, okay? It won't always be like this, I promise." Before the door closed, Vincent heard a small whisper. "I'm sorry, Vince."

Vincent said nothing in reply.


	5. No Rest For The Damned

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

**Author's Note: **Wow. So, if you missed my last authors note (been deleted), then you'll not know the reasons for my absence. My grampa died in late May which sort of thrust me in to this huge depression. Any desire to write I had before completely vanished. I think I've got it back now, though, so I hope you'll bare with me. Updates won't be coming quickly by any means, but I needed to get this out. Thanks for all of your support--it really means a lot to me!

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Five: No Rest For The Damned**

* * *

_These walls don't talk,  
Even when somebody knocks,  
These walls don't stand,  
For anyone else but themselves,  
These walls don't fall,  
Even when gravity's failing us all_

- Fair To Midland - Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes

* * *

Against his better judgement, Reno had agreed to travel with Elena to Wutai for the ninja's funeral, which was certain to be a grand event. Godo seemed to have put every last bit of his money in to it, something Reno recognised as quite odd, at least to his own moral standards. It was as if the country's ruler was trying to show off with the extravagance of it. Reno didn't see this as very appropriate for a funeral, but he didn't comment.

He spent most of his time there consoling Elena who was visibly upset over Yuffie's death. He imagined she had been holding her emotions in for this moment. The two of them had been good friends. Reno himself didn't cry, but he definitely felt a twinge of sadness as her ashes were scattered in to the water surrounding the country, and he even felt a little bit of guilt. He thought it unfair that Vincent was missing this, knowing the man was probably lying in his bed, fighting the pain from his latest dosage of drugs and hating himself for not being there.

That was something else that worried Reno. Over the past week he had been coming back from his meetings with the doctor in a severely weakened state. Reno understood that the tests took a lot out of him, but he wished they'd been able to numb the pain. For six days straight he was forced to lay awake in bed, listening to the muffled screams as Vincent's demons made every last effort to stop what was being done to them. The doctors insisted it was impossible to administer painkillers because they needed to be sure the drugs were working. That meant that Vincent had to be able to feel everything. It was his job to tell them if something felt wrong.

One night Reno couldn't stand it anymore and he had walked in to the man's room, opened his mouth and threw in two extra-strength Tylenol. He'd watched as Vincent washed them down with a glass of wine (something that also wasn't allowed) and waited until the man had fallen asleep. He'd nearly gotten fired for that little incident, but Tseng had taken pity on him and simply cut his pay. Vincent never mentioned it, but Reno knew he appreciated the random act of kindness. In fact, he caught Vincent eyeing the wine on more than one occasion.

In the middle of the second week, there had been a development in the case of Baldur Marlowe, the man ultimately responsible for Yuffie's demise. Rude had successfully tracked Neilson to their possible hideout. He had yet to go inside as per Turk rules (an agent should never go in to an unknown area by himself) but a raid was scheduled for the next day. The team responsible for infiltrating were Reno, acting as leader, Rude, and a woman named Jutta Gottschalk, who had been assigned to the Turks only recently.

Reno had complained when he found out about Jutta, saying her personality didn't mesh well with the rest of the group. Rude and Elena had actually agreed with him, but as second-in-command Reno didn't have the power to overrule Tseng's choice. Jutta, it turned out, used to be in SOLDIER. Her abrasive attitude likely stemmed from that. She rarely, if ever, spoke about things outside of her occupation. Reno recalled Rude being like that when he first met him, but after a little pushing the persistent redhead was able to get the man to lighten up. It seemed this Jutta person had no desire to include "teamwork" in her resume. She wouldn't have been hired had it not been for her outstanding background and tactical skill.

Either way, Reno wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

_What is this BULLSHIT, Vincent! You've got to be fucking kidding me. Do you seriously think you can get rid of us? You're fucking insane!_

_**Be quiet, Hell Masker. I agree with you but you are giving me a headache.**_

_Chaos! Can you believe the nerve of this guy? Thinks he can fucking rip us out as he pleases._

_**I am aware of what he is trying to do. Death Gigas, you are being awfully quiet.**_

**Not much else to say now that Galian Beast isn't here.**

_**You two were close.**_

**Yeah. Doesn't matter now, does it? I'm next anyway.**

_FUCK THIS! We can fucking destroy Valentine's mind. He wouldn't dare!_

…_**I think it's a bit too late for that, Hell Masker.**_

* * *

"Stop it…" Vincent mumbled, flinging an arm over his pulsing head. "Just stop talking." He sighed as the voices continued to talk, doing his best to tune them out. Reno glanced up at him from his laptop in the corner of the room, an eyebrow quirked. The man's pain had lessened slightly, which they were both thankful for, but the extraction of Galian Beast had clearly upset the other demons living inside Vincent. They wouldn't leave him alone.

He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, finalizing their plans for tomorrow's raid. Once he was sure all the details were laid out, he emailed the file to Rude and Jutta, as well as Tseng just so he had a copy for his filing. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed at his eyes. The time being 9:45pm was something of an irritant since Reno was hoping to get some bar time in before the mission, but he knew he'd need his sleep for this one. Rude and Jutta would probably be angry at how late they were receiving the mission details, but Reno simply shrugged that off. Rude would understand, and Reno got some sick sort of satisfaction out of pissing Jutta off so that was fine as well.

"I won't be around to take you to your appointment tomorrow morning, Vince, so you'll have to find your way on your own." Reno had taken to dropping the drawl he'd earned from a childhood in the slums when he was around the other man. Vincent hardly seemed impressed or irritated by it, and it was kind of tough to keep it up when he was so tired. The other man grunted.

"It's not like I haven't worked here before."

"Yeah, yeah…" Reno trailed off and kicked his feet up on an end table. The ex-Turk had developed quite an attitude during his stay with Reno. The redhead knew it was partially his fault. He really didn't need to hang around the man all the time, but he really had nothing better to do all day so bugging Vincent was the next best option. "What d'ya think you'll do when you're all fixed up?"

Vincent declined to answer, still somewhat offended at the flippant way Reno treated his condition. He maintained that he wasn't being "fixed" but rather "cured". Most people wouldn't note a difference, but Vincent felt it very sharply.

A few minutes of silence passed during which Reno lit up a cigarette. "I would prefer you didn't smoke here," Vincent muttered, his enhanced nose picking up the scent. Reno rolled his eyes.

"Right, 'cause the doc says smoke interferes with your drugs, right?" He mused for a moment, not really wanting to butt out but at the same time knowing he should. "Well, just don't breathe it in then." He shrugged his shoulders and set the laptop on the floor.

"You are quite annoying."

"I know."

Silence.

"But seriously, what are ya going to do? When this is over, I mean."

Vincent resisted the urge to throw something large and heavy at the Turk, instead rolling over on to his side so he didn't have to risk looking at him. "I will probably travel."

Reno snorted. "You did that before, though. I mean something relatively human, you know. Like, what will you pig out on? I know this great pancake house, man, I could show you it."

Vincent ignored him, instead running the thought of food through his head. He would need it to keep himself going, then. He couldn't even recall what his favourites had been before… it would almost be like starting fresh. He would be an infant once more.

"I don't remember what pancakes taste like."

Reno smirked, standing from the chair and walking to Vincent's front where he kneeled down. A cocky grin spreading over his lips, he spoke. "You would even be able to get yourself a girl, Vince. Not that you can't now, but… you know… you can start a family, if ya get my drift."

Vincent's thoughts turned to Lucrecia in an instant, and he stiffened. It took a moment for him to unlock his jaw. "I have no desire to mate."

Laughter burst from Reno's lips. "So blunt, so blunt. That'll probably change, though."

Vincent met Reno's eyes, his own shining with anger. "It will not." Reno chewed on his lip for a moment, nodding his head slowly. He stood up and stretched.

"Whatever man. All of this talk about mating and shit… I got to go to a bar. See you tomorrow night, probably. You should set your doc clock for 9:15." The lithe man strolled to the doorway. "Ya can use the computer if ya want. There's a guest account."

"Reno?"

Reno paused and raised his eyebrows in question. It was rare that Vincent ever called him by his first name, normally calling him 'Turk' or, preferably, nothing at all.

Vincent nearly bit his tongue. He wanted to say thank you, because the persistent person had indeed distracted him enough that he was able to forget about the beasts raging in him. He wanted to ask Reno to stay a bit longer, because he knew as soon as the man left Hell Masker would make himself quite known. He wanted to argue about nothing with the Turk. He almost said it, too, but his throat closed and he shut his eyes.

"When do you leave?"

"6:00."

"I see."

Reno frowned, but placed the slightly strange question out of his mind. Before he shut the door he waved goodbye. Vincent settled in for a world of hurt.

* * *

The curtains fluttered as wind seeped through them, allowing the moonlight to outline a frail figure edging its way along the wall. It was late, or rather early, but the man sleeping unbeknownst in his bed still had another three hours before he had to wake.

Vincent collapsed at the end of the bed, eyes seeping with tears from the brutal onslaught Hell Masker had brought upon him shortly after Reno left. Finally the ex-Turk had had enough. He needed to see if something about having Reno near him calmed the beasts, because at this point he would have given anything to silence them. He calmly placed a shaking hand on Reno's exposed ankle, listening as his body started to relax. In a few moments he was able to blot out the voices—not completely, because the whispers were still there, but it was enough.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Reno, who had been awake when Vincent came in, didn't dare move. He was confused at first, slightly panicked. He believed the man had finally been pushed past his limit and was coming to murder him in his sleep. It wouldn't surprise him, really. But when he'd touched his ankle—just _touched_, Reno barely felt it—Reno began to fear he was simply going to rape him. Then he had fallen asleep, and Reno wasn't sure what to think. From murder to rape, it was hard to believe this was even happening.

"Vince?" He whispered, and he bit his lip. There was no reply, no movement from the other man. Reno looked down, forcing his head to move slightly, and saw the awkward position the man had fallen in to. Sighing, Reno shook his head. He decided to get up, knowing he would never fall asleep with this potentially very dangerous man inches from him. He slowly slid his foot out from Vincent and shivered. He was suddenly very cold. He walked to the window and shut it, before finally turning his thoughts to the matter at hand.

A good Samaritan could never just leave Vincent on the floor like that, but moving him to the bed might wake him. Then again, it was obvious the man had been dead tired so it wasn't likely. Deciding to risk it, Reno began the process of lifting the man to his sheets. He was lighter than expected which made the process last only a few seconds. Vincent moaned in his sleep as he was thrown on to the bed, and Reno's eyes widened, afraid he had awoken. However he simply shifted his position, burying himself in to the pillows.

Reno had three hours to kill. He looked around his apartment, noticed very little he could do, so simply sat in a chair and stared at the short-haired, sleeping ex-Turk. It wasn't long before this became boring and against his will he fell asleep sitting up.

His alarm went off precisely two and a half hours later, and Reno snorted awake from his half-sitting half-lying position. He wiped the drool from his mouth; embarrassed to see some of it had landed on Vincent's hand. He wiped that off too. The man remained sleeping.

Before gathering his things and running out the door, Reno had enough sense to reset the alarm clock so Vincent would wake in time for his appointment. He wasn't entirely sure it would work (he hadn't budged for Reno's, after all), but he supposed it was worth a shot. He jotted down a quick note before leaving:

_Don't know why you're here, don't ask._

_Appointment at 9:45. Back tonight._

_-R._

* * *

"You're late," Jutta hissed, tapping her foot against the floor. Rude cast Reno a withering look as the redhead burst out of the elevator. Reno sent him an apologetic one back. He didn't mean for Rude to be stuck with the bitch. "You should pay attention to the time _you_ set for a mission."

"Whatever, yer majesty." Reno gave an exaggerated bow before sighing. He checked to make sure everyone had their weapons, as well as a few other choice pieces of special equipment. "Alright, let's head out."

With that they all departed, unsuspecting of what tragedy might befall them this morning.


	6. A Scientific Approach to Purity

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

**Author's Note: **Um, this time there is no excuse except for complete lack of interest—but! I have been inspired. Hopefully this inspiration lasts longer than the last one did. Vincent isn't in this chapter because I totally don't remember the details of my story anymore and have yet to remember what I planned on doing with him. So while I figure things out, here's a little bit of storyline and Reno.

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Six: A Scientific Approach to Purity**

* * *

_So low, but still breathing,  
Funny how you show you care  
Is hell still beneath me?  
Or am I already there?  
It seems I'm never breaking free,  
While you sit and watch me bleed  
When the night falls there's no where to go _

- Hedley – Brave New World

* * *

The warehouse was located in the far outskirts of Edge—in a part of the city more resembling Midgar in it's inhabitants. Drug dealers, prostitutes, and people who had no direction in life for one reason or another. It was, Reno laughed inwardly, just like the slums of sector six and he found nostalgia in it rather than fear. The warehouse itself was a decaying building, probably a perfect disguise for the seedy transactions that no doubt went on inside of it. Reno curled his lip in disgust as he kicked away a broken needle by his feet.

He looked to his left. Rude was just behind the corner of the far building across the street. To his right, Jutta was perched atop the roof of another building close by, a sniper rifle trained on the front door of the warehouse. Reno was crouched low behind a trash can (that clearly wasn't used), his goggles pulled tightly over his eyes. He'd made a few enhancements to them over the years. As he peered around the container towards the warehouse, he read the body heat signatures of eleven, no, twelve people. He counted eight of them as stationary targets positioned closer to the doors—he could only assume they were guards.

The remaining four signatures were all huddled in the centre of the building, and Reno pinpointed them as his main targets. One was bent over another who lay on the ground. The other two appeared to be in an intense discussion only a few steps away.

Unsure what was going on, but quite sure that their team hadn't been noticed, Reno held up his left hand and flicked his fingers forward, the signal to move in. He watched closely as Rude quietly ran up to the warehouse entrance and pressed his back against the door. He waited.

"There're twelve, eight of 'em guards. Probably armed. Smoke 'em out," Reno murmured in to his wireless radio. Rude gave a short nod and without waiting any longer, threw open the door. Shouts errupted and shots were fired as he tossed in a smoke grenade that would render them sightless. "Get back," Reno ordered, and while Rude did as was told he prayed to god the guards would take the bait and come outside.

Sure enough they burst out of the doors, guns held high aiming at an invisible enemy. "Wait until they're all out," he said, cocking his own gun and aiming it at the head of the nearest guard. "Head shots, please. I don't want the others to get away."

Reno counted, and when he got to eight he smiled. "Fire."

* * *

They'd gotten even more lucky than Reno imagined. One of the remaining four people inside decided to check what the rucous outside was, and they'd shot him down with the guards. That left three targets, one of which was likely Neilson and another, hopefully, Baldur Marlowe.

As the smoke cleared and Reno briefed his teammates on the situation, no more made their way outside. Through his goggles Reno could see that the group had migrated to the back of the warehouse.

"Go 'round back, Jutta, and watch the back door." He said, and watched as she leapt from roof to roof to reach the other side of the warehouse. They had already made short work of the vehicle stashed there, so there would certainly be no quick retreats for anyone.

"They're not moving," Reno muttered, eyebrows furrowing as he studied their signatures. "Even if they know they're cornered they should still be trying to make some sort of escape, don't you think?" He heard a soft grunt from Rude in answer and he sighed. "The one that's possibly injured confuses me. Why take somebody disposable with you if they'll just slow you down... unless it's Marlowe? But Marlowe's description pegs him at just over six feet, this body is tiny. A girl?"

"Marlowe has a daughter," Rude supplied. "Perhaps it is her."

"I wonder what's wrong with her, then." He tapped his gun on the garbage can for a second before slowly rising to his feet. "Guess we'll just have to go in, huh," he cracked the bones in his neck and grimaced. "If it weren't for her I could just blow the fucking building up."

"You got my back?" He asked as he ran forward, gun drawn. He wasn't really expecting an answer but when the short "yes" crackled through his earpiece he had to smile.

His first priority as he burst through the doors was to look for cover, which he found behind a stack of crates. He heard no gunfire, which only served to put him on higher alert.

"Very good. More than I expected from Shinra's dogs, although the fault may lie with the imbeciles I hired to guard this place."

Reno froze, looking across the distance to Rude, who peered around the corner. He pulled his head up and signalled three, followed by two. Reno's brow furrowed. Three people, not armed. Was it really this easy?

"Confused? I would be happy to explain." The voice was male, and very deep. It was brimming with confidence and Reno pegged him as the leader. The other two had yet to speak but the man's clear words were interrupted by a soft inhale and exhale. "Please don't hide yourselves. We aren't armed."

Reno hesitated, unsure what to do in the situation. His Turk training called for complete stealth and caution, but Rude _had_ signalled 'unarmed'. Biting his lip, he decided a better look at them was imperative, so took the middle route. Holding his gun in both hands, he aimed in the direction of the voices as he stood.

He sort of wished he hadn't.

He recognised Neilson immediately, stocky form standing still at the back of the group. He clasped both of his hands in front of him in a pose that very much reminded Reno of his own stocky partner. He sneered, realising that he was staring at Yuffie's murderer.

The other man, presumably the one who had spoken, stood at the front with his hands shoved in to the pockets of his freshly pressed dress pants. A smirk was cemented on his features, and it bothered Reno that he could be so calm when his whereabouts had just been blown. The Turk recognised him as Baldur Marlowe.

The girl, probably no more than twenty years old, was flat on her back, her eyes bulging and her body shaking violently as she stared at the ceiling. Her pained whimpers were only increasing in volume. Reno saw that her fingers were ripping in to the skin of her bare stomach, where her t-shirt had been torn open. They left bloody strips as they moved, her fingernails abnormally long.

Reno wanted nothing more than to vomit, and he could tell Rude felt the same. He looked to Marlowe.

"We can make this quick, Marlowe. All you need to do is turn around and put your hands in the air slowly." Reno spoke, voice strong despite his queasiness. Normally he would have blown this guy's head off, but the girl (and the queerness of the situation) changed things drastically.

Marlowe smiled. "Very soon this world will crumble beneath Shinra's feet, and it's demise begins in this warehouse." Reno breathed heavily, focused his aim. "Meet my beloved daughter. Her name isn't important, it's her genes." He took two steps forward, and the Turks took two steps back. "She was born eighteen years ago as an exceptionally healthy child.

"You see, gentlemen, there are two types of people. One, like my sister, is quite normal, possesses no faults. The other, chosen randomly, is born with a specific, single, genetic fault. You cannot tell who they are—gender, race, age do not matter." He paused. "For example, I am one of them. My father, you see, was a cruel man but a scientific genius. He discovered that those born with the altered gene were impervious to all ailments. He tested me over and over again, but found that I was not able to get sick or die. It took over his mind, the gene, to the point where he created an incredible thing. I call it Irony.

"The ultimate disease. Meant to destroy the gene but it actually does the opposite. Quite contagious. So much so in fact that in the process of injecting me with it, he ended up infecting himself instead. I was young then so I can't quite remember the details of his death, but the man who found and contained him later told me it was, for lack of a better term, _thrilling_."

Reno's eyes flickered to the young girl on the floor, clawing at her own stomach. He swallowed.

"Yes," Marlowe hissed, full-out grinning now. "Have you figured it out? We will all be witness to Gaia's demise tonight. Those that the gene picked, like myself, will be the only ones spared. Then I shall create a new planet, a better one." He turned around and laughed. "And all of it will be mine."

"Reno," Rude warned, backing up quickly.

"I know, I know!" The redhead almost tripped in his hurry to leave as the girl let loose with a terrifying scream. He didn't want to see it, but the blood was everywhere. He threw himself outside, wincing as he hit the cement. Rude slammed the door.

"Jutta!" Reno screamed. "Blow it up! Blow it the fuck up!" They bolted, feeling like they were running in slow motion as the ground shook beneath them. They ducked behind a shed several yards away, as far as they were able to get, and covered their heads.

After it settled down and they regrouped, it finally registered with Reno all that had happened. He fell to the ground. "She combusted," he whispered. "Holy shit, she combusted."

Rude lifted a shaky hand to remove his sunglasses. "Reno," he said, voice small and Reno was scared of it more than anything. He gestured, and Reno dared to glance down at their clothes, their hair, skin; all of it was covered in blood that was not their own.


	7. Give and Take the World

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

**Author's Note: **Holy cow, an update that took less than a month! I'll try to keep it like this, but don't get too used to it. And jesus, when will the Reno/Vincent love start? I don't know myself. Haha. Enjoy this one. Clearly I'm loving the sci-fi stuff way too much. Thanks for your reviews last chapter! Maybe I should start replying to them? :O

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Give and Take the World**

* * *

_So low, but still breathing,  
Funny how you show you care  
Is hell still beneath me?  
Or am I already there?  
It seems I'm never breaking free,  
While you sit and watch me bleed  
When the night falls there's no where to go _

- Hedley – Brave New World

* * *

"We've given him Nitopa to calm his heart down and let him get some rest, as well as a small dose of Anepac to fight against infection, but we'll just have to wait until he wakes up... The Nitopa should be wearing off soon..."

Vincent's eyes fluttered as he came around, his head pounding like a thousand marching bands were parading around inside his skull. He struggled to remember why he was in so much pain, and then it hit him. He'd went down to the lab that morning expecting the normal check-ups, but the doctors offered him something else instead.

He tried to look down at his arm, but found that it was strapped down to the bed and it hurt to lift his head too far. Experimentally, he tried to stretch his fingers out, but was only met with a dull ache.

Had they really done it? Was that accursed thing... gone?

"Ah, you're awake. Wonderful," a squeaky voice said with some surprise. "I must say I wasn't expecting you back with us for at least another two hours, but I suppose your enhanced functions are to thank for that." The familiar face of his plump, over-friendly doctor, Shelton Mullins, entered his field of view. The normally smiling man had black lines beneath his eyes which didn't quite put Vincent at ease.

"The gauntlet?" He asked quickly, not in the mood for pleasantries.

"All removed, of course. We were correct in our presumption that Professor Hojo kept your original arm beneath the metal casing. Think of it as something of a permanent cast, if you will. It was quite a tricky procedure to remove the screws inside your arm, being virtually unable to cut through the metal, but we managed somehow. Tell me how it feels, please. Any pain, abnormal sensations around or in the operated area..." He droned on, raising his clipboard high enough for his poor eyes to see. Vincent shut his own eyes and focused.

"There is a small pain when I move my fingers, but otherwise, nothing."

"Can you feel with them?"

Vincent almost sighed. "If you were to remove the bindings, I could perhaps test that."

"Of my, of course, how forgetful of me! Here we go," the man laughed jovially as he released them. "Simply for precaution, you know, should your remaining demons have anything to say about the operation."

"I'm sure," Vincent grunted as he brought his arm up. He tried not to listen to Chaos screaming at him. He gazed at the skin, and was almost disappointed with how normal it seemed. Pale and smooth like the rest of his body, he certainly couldn't tell that it had been locked in a metal casing for years. In fact, it was exactly the same as his other hand, except for the small freckle on his palm that he'd almost forgotten about. (He certainly didn't make a habit of appreciating freckles, but Lucrecia always had a fondness for this one.)

He grasped the railing of his bed and pulled himself up, please with his own grip. Not what it could be, but given a couple of days he should be able to steady a rifle.

"It aches slightly," he repeated, but even as he said it the pain was fading.

Mullins laughed and put the clipboard back down on a nearby table. "It would be doing a lot more than aching if it weren't for those healing abilities of yours..." He patted his stomach. "Dear me, I'm hungry. I haven't had time to eat what with worrying about your surgery and the conditions of those Turks, always getting themselves in to trouble."

Vincent paused in the process of searching for his boots. "The Turks are injured?" He tried not to sound like he cared. "And the redhead?"

"Him and the bald one, I'm afraid. Sustained a few cuts and bruises. Another female did as well, but for some reason the other two have passed out cold. They've been out for a couple of hours now."

"Can I--" Vincent stopped speaking as a sudden commotion was heard from outside the patient room door and down the hall.

"Oh my, what now?" Mullins said to himself as he made to leave. "Please feel free to go back to your room, Vincent. I'll see you at nine-thirty tomorrow morning for a post-operative check-up."

As the door shut softly and Vincent was finally left alone, he had to strain himself not to follow the man outside. It wasn't as if he was _worried_ about the Turks, but... was he worried?

_Once a Turk, always a Turk..._

Vincent scowled and blotted the voice out, searching around for his watch. When he was ready he exited through the same door as Mullins fully intending to turn left and ride the elevator to the Turks apartment quarters.

He told himself it was pure curiosity that had him turning right, towards the shouting which had only escalated in volume.

* * *

"Don't fucking touch me!" Reno screamed, slammed his body against the door that separated Rude and himself from the people outside.

"Reno, please, we're only trying to help you," a voice offered.

"You don't get it, doc. We're fucking screwed. Jesus, we're all screwed. It's an infection, doc! If you touched us, if you touched the blood... shit, shit shit! Jutta! You have to bring her here!"

"We've treated both of you against infections as well as Miss Jutta. In fact, she's taking a well-deserved day off at home today, so if you could just open the door--"

"She's in the city? You let her out? Holy fuck, no, shit, no. Get her back! You can't treat this, doc! If it spreads, we're fucked! Do you understand?"

"You're hysterical, Turk. We've done preliminaries on you and you're fine."

"And you could find and diagnose a new disease without knowing what to look for? Jesus, you doctors must be smarter than you look," Reno retorted sharply. "If you don't find and quarantine Jutta, something very, very bad will happen and all of it will fall on your heads."

Silence followed that, and Reno looked out through the tiny glass window in the door. The doctors, four of them, looked a mix between hesitation and fear. He listened intently as harsh footsteps made their way close.

"Tseng," the head doctor said, relief evident in his voice. "Your Turk, sir, is causing a bit of a scene."

"When does he not?" Tseng muttered as he appeared in view. "What the hell are you doing, Reno?"

"We're contagious as fuck, Tseng, and these idiots don't seem to understand that."

"How contagious?"

"I'm... not sure on the specifics, but if you get it, I'm imagining death isn't far behind. It's only a matter of time, and I'd love to explain, but you need to quarantine anybody who's come in to contact with Jutta, Rude or I since the warehouse. Now."

Tseng sighed and crossed his arms. "Will this be a waste of my time, Reno?"

"No," he said, and to add to the effect, "sir."

* * *

Vincent listened to the situation from behind a corner until Tseng arrived and only then did he choose to make his presence known, feeling a little foolish for eavesdropping.

"Vincent," he was acknowledged with a nod. "How did I know you would want in on this?"

"I have some experience with abnormalities of the body."

"I see."

"Nice hand, Vince," came Reno's muffled voice form behind the door. Vincent glanced at the window.

"How soon will it kill you?" He asked, taken aback by his own casual tone.

"Straight to the point, but it's nice to know someone believes me," Reno muttered, and it was only because of his enhanced hearing that Vincent heard it. "I don't know," he laughed, and it almost hurt to hear the fear in his voice. "Marlowe wasn't exactly specific, but he did give us a nice demonstration."

"I want a full report on what happened in one hour. You will be transported to a clean cell designed for these types of situations, and we will speak through glass. Will this suffice?" Tseng said, glancing at his watch.

"Just do what I told you, and we'll talk." Reno replied.

"I'll send a team out to retrieve Jutta, as well as section off anybody who came in to physical contact with the three of you." He turned around. "One hour. You're more than welcome to attend, of course, Vincent." He threw a hand in the air and briskly walked away, probably to inform Rufus, although it looked to Vincent like he was simply going for a stroll.

The doctors dispersed, and Reno slammed a hand against the door. "Shit just always happens to us, eh Rude?" Silence was the only answer and Vincent could see through the window that the man was still knocked out.

"How was your surgery, Vince?"

"Fine."

"They told me they were going to do it for you, if you wanted. I said to 'em that you probably wouldn't do it. It was probably like a security blanket or something? Guess I don't know you as well as I thought."

"Hm," he mumbled. "The gauntlet was irritating to sleep with."

Reno laughed. "Yeah, must've been. Speaking of sleeping with, I thought I'd let you know there's no hard feelings about last night. Drugs must've driven you crazy."

Mortified, Vincent turned away. "Yes. I have things to do. I will see you in one hour."

And as he walked away he told himself that Reno was right—it was all because of the drugs. Reno certainly did not bring him comfort.

Absolutely none.

* * *

"Just start," Rufus had said as he and Tseng sat down at the table, their arms folding in unison, which Reno found vaguely amusing. "Just start at the very beginning."

And Reno had done just that. He and a newly awakened Rude, plus Jutta (who was looking quite irritated and confused) recounted their story separated from the other group via a glass wall. Another glass wall separated Jutta, because it was not yet known whether she was actually infected.

After their story, Rufus uncrossed his arms. "As far as you know, then, the only human affected by the virus was Marlowe's daughter, and she is deceased. Assuming they were still in the building, Marlowe and Neilson are likely deceased as well."

"We can't confirm that. It could have been crazy talk, but Marlowe claimed that he could not die because of a certain gene." Rude, who was talking more than normal, said as he shifted his sunglasses. "They were in close contact longer than we were, so it's possible they were immune to it. Throwing aside the immortal possibility, it could also mean the virus is not transferable through air."

Rufus tapped his fingers against his knee rhythmically. "How do we test for a virus we still don't know the structure of?" He asked another person at the table, a scientist, who was staring at Reno intently.

"We can't," he said simply. "We would need a live sample in order to know what to look for." He sniffed and glanced down at some sheets. "I suppose we could run some blood work on all three of them and compare it with their past work, keeping an eye out for any abnormalities... but that could take weeks, even months. If you want to isolate it quick, you'll have to give me a sample."

Tseng frowned. "The warehouse has been sectioned off. I don't want to risk sending someone in for a sample that may or may not be there, if the virus _is _transferable through air."

"If it was, the entire city of Edge could be effected by now." Jutta offered, shaking her head.

"We were covered in her blood," Reno muttered. "Did you save any?"

"Your clothes were disposed of, as the team of physicians looking after you were not aware of the situation. It's not protocol to save them. We thought it was your own blood, to be honest."

"Send one of us in then!" Reno spoke directly to Rufus.

"No. It's too risky."

"Send me," a deep voice, new to the conversation, suddenly said from the back of the room. All eyes turned to Vincent who was standing calmly against the back wall. "There is a very good chance I'm immune, is there not?"

"After all the work done on you recently, we can't be positive." The scientist replied. "But... there is still a chance."

Rufus declined to speak, instead he looked thoughtful.

"It is my choice, I assume." Vincent said.

The blond man sighed. "I am the President of a very powerful cooperation, Vincent, but I'm not foolish enough to think I could stop you." He stood up from the table, his chair squeaking as it rolled back. "But are you willing to risk all we've accomplished in regards to the demon extraction just for the sake of ShinRa?"

Vincent frowned, his cloak whipping around behind him as he stalked for the door. "I would risk it for Edge," he answered. "Prepare transport, and I will leave immediately."

Reno watched him leave with an unsure look on his face, but in the end said nothing as Vincent's figure disappeared.

"Very well," Rufus nodded. "Hold on for a little while. If there's anything you need, ask your guards."

"I could use a drink," Reno mumbled, but was met with an emptying room on the opposite side of the glass, and complete silence from his companions.


	8. This Might As Well Be Jail

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

**Author's Note: **Uh, no excuse this time. Lol. Just writer's block, I guess? I don't write much anymore. I'm trying, really! I totally forgot what I was doing with this story. I think I'll be starting with the RenoxVincent by next chapter, though.

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: This Might As Well Be Jail**

* * *

_I want your ugly, I want your disease_

_I want your everything as long as it's free_

- Lady GaGa – Bad Romance

* * *

The ground where the warehouse once stood, as well as the surrounding area, had been completely quarantined by ShinRa mercenaries. Men, clad entirely in white and holding guns in their hands, stood at the entrance to the large tent that had been erected over the area. Vincent eyed them as he passed – some nodded in his direction while others held out their hands to stop him, not familiar with this newcomer. To these people Vincent held out a badge given to him by Rufus before he left that gave him temporary Turk status. He wasn't pleased being thought of as a Turk, but he let it go in his hurry to get inside and inspect the damage done.

Vincent wore a ventilation mask over his mouth purely because Rufus had insisted. Vincent doubted this would prevent whatever it was they were dealing with from entering his system. Having confidence that his own enhancements would counter the virus instead, Vincent slipped it off of his face as soon as he was inside and away from the eyes of the guards outside.

He looked around. The ground was black, covered in bits of rubble and ash leftover from the explosion. The exact position of where the building had stood was clear to him by the excess of rubble as he neared the back of the large tent. He stood in the centre of the site, eyes taking in everything that he was seeing. By his feet, he assumed, was where Marlowe had stood. He bent down and drew a finger across the ground, collecting up some fragments that he then brought closer to his nose. He closed his eyes and took in the scents.

'Bone,' he thought. He frowned and reached inside his cloak, pulling out a bag the researchers had supplied him with, putting the substance in and resealing it. It was perhaps the best chance of finding DNA he had – the fire had clearly destroyed any blood there might have been to find. But could fire, he wondered, reduce bone to ash? And if it could, should there not be more of the chalky substance on the ground? There had been three people left inside the building when it exploded, yet the amount left here seemed to signify that only one remained. Did Marlowe and Neilson escape?

He decided he should take all of these questions quickly back to the ShinRa headquarters. He could do no more here but risk possible infection, assuming he had not already contracted it by simply standing in this place. He walked back to the entrance and cleared his throat. "I'm ready to come out now," he stated.

"There will be a truck stationed a few feet from where you exit. Please keep your mask on as you get in it. Once you are in and the door is shut, we ask that you please keep the mask on until you are transferred to a sanitary cell back at headquarters. Do not touch anybody or anything. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Vincent replied, fastening his mask back over his face. The door slid open and he quickly walked the short distance to the armoured truck waiting for him.

* * *

Vincent had given his findings to the scientists before being transferred to his own holding cell separate from the others – it was not yet known if he was infected, so Rufus had ordered it just to be safe. A sample of his own blood was taken, and he was left alone to himself.

Or, mostly to himself – Reno and Rude's cell was to the left, separated by a thick wall of bullet-proof glass. A speaker system had been set up in order to let them speak to one another, but Vincent felt that this was unnecessary. He really had no desire to speak to anybody, except to the scientists when they had the results of their testing.

Reno had other ideas.

"I know you're supposed to be super-human and all that, but how stupid do you have to be to not keep your mask on in a quarantined zone? C'mon, Vince, I know you're not that dumb."

"I do not feel ill," Vincent stated matter-of-factly, his gaze trained on the white floor.

"Neither do I," Reno said, shrugging his shoulders. "But there's no doubt in our case, right?"

Vincent ignored him, letting out an uncharacteristic sigh. He was beginning to get annoyed. While offering himself up to be the guinea pig had at first seemed to be the right thing to do, he was realising what it all actually meant. Hearing Reno's insistent chatter was one thing – he was used to it by now – but being locked up in this room meant that his own testing had to be halted. He hadn't seen Dr. Mullins in several days, and the remaining demons inside of him were aware of the fact. They were beginning to gain more confidence.

It was... straining.

Reno was babbling on about his various theories when the door to the interrogation section was opened. Rufus, followed by Tseng and two others scientists, walked in to the room with varying looks of confusion and irritation.

"First and foremost: thank you, Vincent, for your trouble. I'm sorry you had to risk infection for the sake of ShinRa. I'll hand the science over to Dr. Carthy for now," he waved a hand in the direction of a dark-haired man who was clutching a clipboard with a hungry look in his eyes.

Vincent resisted the urge to tell Rufus just where he could send his thanks – he most certainly did not do anything for ShinRa, but entirely for Edge. He'd thought this was a point made clear at their last meeting, but the message obviously hadn't been received.

The scientist took a step forward and cleared his throat. "The sample given to us by Vincent Valentine was indeed bone, as expected. It was not human." Vincent frowned at this. How was that even possible?

As if reading his mind, Reno asked the same question. "There wasn't anybody or anything else there beside us and them."

"The sample was confirmed to be canine."

Reno slammed his fist down on the table he sat at. "That's impossible!"

"Reno," Tseng warned. The red-head fumed, but stayed quiet.

"As for the DNA, we cannot confirm that the animal was infected with the virus based purely on a bone sample, but chances are high that this was just a tactical move on the enemy's part, designed to distract us," the man finished, sliding his clipboard underneath his armpit.

Vincent shook his head. The man, although simply a scientist and in no way qualified to make observations as such, was probably right. Reno seemed quite adamant that there was no canine present in the warehouse, and it made little sense that, even if there had been one, only its bones would have remained after the fact.

He was positive now that Marlowe and Neilson had escaped.

"I have Elena searching all of Neilson's known hideouts with a SOLDIER squad, but for now we're just following dead end leads. While I would accept your help—" Tseng said, looking to Reno, who clearly wanted to speak, "we cannot risk letting you out on to the field. Unfortunately, until we can be positive you are not contagious you are to remain here for an indefinite amount of time."

The Turks looked at him, angered, and a female voice spoke from farther down to Vincent's left. Vincent jumped, nearly having forgotten that Jutta was there. "What about family, Sir? Will we be allowed visitors?"

"You will be paid, as usual, and allowed visitors in this room only. No one will be allowed to enter your cells except for doctors. If you feel like you are starting to display symptoms, or are feeling the slightest bit sick, you will let us know by way of the telephones hooked up in each cell. Picking them up connects you straight to my secretary, who will then wire you through to the most appropriate person.

"Please keep in mind that these phones are for emergency purposes only. Any misconduct will be punished accordingly." Tseng finished, sending Reno a glare that the other man returned with a smirk.

He seemed to go through a short mental check list before finally settling his eyes on Rufus, giving a slight nod. The blond man stood up, his hands in his pockets. "Would you like me to contact anyone, Vincent?"

Vincent thought of Cloud and Tifa, and how busy they must be, and decided against it. "Not right now." He answered, lowering his head once again. His bangs fell over his eyes, and he was struck by the fact that his hair was growing once again. He probably wouldn't be able to cut it again for a while – so much for the attempted change.

After everyone had left, Reno tapped idly against the glass separating him and Vincent. "Gonna be boring... wanna play a card game?" ShinRa had supplied various time-killers throughout each room, and Reno shuffled a deck of cards in his hands slowly.

"No," Vincent said, walking the few feet to his cot. "I'm tired." He closed his eyes and pretended to fall asleep.

He heard Reno sigh and shuffle over to Rude, and the two quickly started up a game of War that, to Vincent's dismay, lasted well over two hours. He stared at the clock on the far wall of the interrogation room, having long since given up on sleeping.

It was only a few minutes after Reno had laid down his last card and lost spectacularly, that Rude, now lying down on his own cot, started to cough violently.

At first nobody moved, waiting for it to pass, but it only seemed to get worse. Reno exchanged a glance with Vincent and stood up, moving to Rude's side. "You okay, buddy?" He helped him to sit up and patted him on the back. Eventually the fit stopped and Rude removed his hand from his mouth, his eyes watering. He managed a nod and lay back down, mumbling about choking on his own breath.

Reno stared at him for several moments afterward, eyes never leaving the small drops of blood hidden in the creases of the man's palm. He swallowed his fear down and reached over to the telephone.

"I need to speak to Tseng," he said. A moment of silence. Then, as if it pained him physically to say the next words, Reno placed a hand to his temple and sighed.

"Yeah, there's something happening to Rude."


	9. Holiday From Reality

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

**Author's Note: **(From, like, last year: So, I got a PSP. I got Crisis Core. I finished it. I cried. I was inspired.) And from now: Hah! Inspiration! Where did you go?! Anyway, it's been a very long time. I'm sorry. Life's been very... hectic. Things just sort of got in the way and long story short I stopped writing all together. I can't promise I'll be updating this frequently, but I'm sure as hell going to try. I really want to finish this one. So, hey, who wants some Reno/Vincent love?

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Holiday From Reality**

* * *

_Oh-oh, it's a picture of perfection_

_Ah-ah, and the postcard's gonna read-_

_Fuck yeah! We can live like this. We can live like this._

- Jack's Mannequin – Holiday From Real

* * *

Rude had been gone for seven days. Those seven days were filled with much of the same – anger, worry, anticipation. Reno was looking paler every day from the lack of sun. He had been an avid surfer on his days off from work, and was very proud of the tan he was sporting. It probably would have upset him more but he wasn't able to tell the time very well, as they had no windows to the outside world. Reno had asked Vincent to move over in to his cell in Rude's place. Normally Vincent wouldn't have, but the Turk was becoming increasingly reclusive, and it was so out of character that Vincent almost felt it was his duty to keep him company – after all, Reno was forced to be near him during his treatments.

They played poker, mostly. Reno was surprised to learn that Vincent wasn't very good at it. Of course Vincent's face had always been hidden behind his red collar, so he had never perfected a "poker face" to fool others. Reno found this very amusing, and won nearly every game.

It was about the eight or ninth time Rufus had walked in on Reno dancing to the radio they had been allowed to have, that the President decided the two of them needed to get out. This, of course, was a complicated thing to do considering their conditions, but he wasn't the President of ShinRa for nothing. After having a long chat with the doctors presiding over Rude, it was revealed to him that the bald man's health seemed to better when his body temperature was lowered. This was done via harsh methods of ice baths and air conditioning to the maximum levels, but it was after having this explained to him that Rufus asked in a deadpan sort of way whether or not the mountains around Icicle Inn would suffice.

It turned out that being the President meant that Rufus had the ability to reserve a large section of land on the mountains all to himself. So long as no civilians passed the perimeter, Reno and Vincent would be allowed to stay in a cabin specially built by ShinRa.

This was offered to them by Tseng, because Rufus didn't want either of them to think he actually cared about their sanity, and it was accepted by Reno almost as soon as the words left Tseng's lips. Vincent really didn't care either way. Jutta, who Reno tended to forget was even quarantined, had refused the offer based upon her own desire to know the results from the scientist's testing. Reno just assumed she didn't want to suffer being locked up in the middle of nowhere with someone she didn't get along with, and someone she'd never spoken to in the first place. So it was with a loud whoop of joy that Reno followed Vincent to a helicopter that would take them to their destination.

"We could go snowboarding, Vince!" Reno flopped down in to his seat and tapped his goggles. "The main reason I wear these is snowboarding, you know."

Vincent didn't have the heart to point out to the man that they wouldn't be allowed to leave the main backyard of the cabin, so he just nodded slightly at Reno's excitement. Vincent wouldn't have gone snowboarding anyway. Probably.

"Call me if anything happens" were Tseng's parting words as he dropped them off at the cabin and took off again, leaving Reno and Vincent alone for an undeterminable amount of time. Reno immediately ran to a large snow pile to their right, and jumped in it. Vincent rolled his eyes and started to make his way to the front door. Reno followed him soon after, whining about the subzero temperatures.

"Maybe if you hadn't leapt in to the snow, you might not be so cold."

"But look at it, Vince. So white and fluffy and inviting!" Reno's eyes seemed to sparkle. "I swear to Gaia, I was born for this place."

"I thought you surfed."

"Surfing, snowboarding... it's like flying on different mediums, man." Reno said as he shut the door, taking a look around the cabin. He whistled. "Gotta say, Rufus can pull through when he wants to."

The room they first entered was clearly a living room, abnormally large for something that should be a tiny, comfy winter retreat. A flat screen television was mounted on the wall adjacent to the entrance, and several tiny speakers sat in each corner of the room. A single black leather chair sat beside an accompanying couch that looked big enough to sit four people. Reno grinned and flopped down in to the couch, bringing his arm up to cover his eyes. "God I haven't been so comfy in ages," he mumbled, and Vincent frowned, continuing his tour of the cabin.

Farther past this room was the kitchen – surprisingly mundane compared to the living room. A tiny table sat in front of a large window overlooking a steep mountain peak. There was enough room for two people, and even then it would be cramped. The counter space was small, and there were only three cabinets which, upon inspection, held a single set of green dishes. The fridge, thankfully, had been filled for their stay, and they were scheduled to have someone drop off more supplies every week. There was no alcohol, something Vincent was sure Reno would be appalled by, but there was a coffee maker. The plain white microwave had a large yellow stain on the top of it, but otherwise looked to be in working order.

Heading up the stairs in the living room (Reno appeared to have fallen asleep), Vincent entered the first of two bedrooms. It was sparsely decorated, had yet another window with a breathtaking view, and aside from the large dresser in the left corner of the room, had a queen sized bed and side table. Vincent would probably be taking this room. He didn't need much. Not that it would have mattered, because after taking a quick glance in to the room across the hall, there really was no difference between the two. The only other room up here was a mid-size bathroom with a shower, a sink, and a toilet. The light flickered when he turned it on and hummed a light buzzing sound. Vincent sighed.

He retreated to his bedroom and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes and falling in to a light slumber.

* * *

When he awoke several hours later the sun had sunk beneath the horizon and the house was filled with darkness. He felt his way down the stairs and almost tripped over several bags at the bottom he had apparently missed earlier. Some of their stuff must have been dropped off before they arrived. Casting a glance to the couch, he was surprised to see Reno was still sleeping, although he was now curled on his side, his face pressed in to the back of the couch.

Vincent almost smiled at the sight. For once he had the freedom (albeit a slight freedom) to do what he wanted, and he chose to sleep. He must have taken his goggles off at some point – they lay on the floor beside him. Without them, his bands slid forward to cover parts of his face, and in his sleep his features were much more relaxed. He looked a lot younger, Vincent thought.

He watched as the Turk shivered slightly, and without thinking Vincent retrieved the blanket off of his bed, placing it over the man. He walked to the kitchen and heated up a mug of milk, then sat down on the chair, gaze fixed to the couch.

His thoughts turned to himself, finally – a subject he was trying very hard not to think about. His demons wouldn't let him ignore it. They screamed louder than ever. He hadn't had a treatment in well over a week; he wasn't so sure he would have them ever again. At least Galian Beast was gone, and his gauntlet as well. That much he could live with.

Hellmasker wouldn't stay silent.

* * *

"Vincent," Reno mumbled, rolling on to his back. "You here?"

A slight grunt answered him, and the redhead cracked open his eyes, glad it was dark in the room.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, fixing a stare to the man a few feet away. He was looking in to the mug in his hands with a frown on his face, his eyebrows scrunched up.

Vincent debated the negatives of answering, but quickly decided Reno was harmless. "Hellmasker..." he muttered, hands tightening. "He is angry."

Reno sighed and sat up, wondering where the blanket around his body had come from. He shrugged it to the floor and stood up, stretching his limbs. "Tell him to go shove it," he drawled, wandering off to the kitchen. "Or just drown him out with booze."

"There is no alcohol, I'm afraid."

"What?!" Reno cried, eyes widening comically. He flung open the cupboards and fridge, rubbing his neck and sighing at the reality of it. "Fuck..."

"And you?" Vincent asked, following him to the kitchen and setting his empty mug in to the sink. "Are you feeling any different?"

"Still me," Reno replied, walking to the large kitchen window and cracking his fingers. "We can't go outside, can we?" It was more a statement than anything, so Vincent remained silent. They were quiet for another minute, then Reno turned around and stared at the other man. "This is going to be fucking boring," he declared.

Vincent let a smirk form to his lips. "I believe there is an Xbox attached to the television."

"That's something," Reno grinned. "Popcorn?"

"I saw some in the cupboard."

"Sweet," Reno said, pushing himself forward. "You start that and I'll set the system up?" As he brushed by the man he let his hand stray to Vincent's arm. The touch lasted only a second and was purely innocent in nature, but Vincent couldn't help swallowing. Nobody had touched him there since...

For the first time in a while, the voices of the demons in his mind stilled.


	10. Superman's Gonna Fall

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

**General Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII and it's sequels/prequels in any form. I am borrowing their stories and characters purely to further my own writing skills.

**Author's Note: **I'm seriously having issues updating, huh? Haha. No worries, I've planned out most of the plot to this now, so all that's left is to write it. Hopefully that helps some. I a little nervous about this chapter... well, you'll see. I didn't want to be like, hey! Yaoi! So I'm taking things slow, I hope that's okay. :) (Side note: I wrote the first half of this ending with the scene in the kitchen about three months before I wrote the second half, so excuse any differences. I refuse to not finish this. It'll be slow going, I'm sorry.)

**General Info: **Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Superman's Gonna Fall**

* * *

_I watched the world float  
To the dark side of the moon  
After all I knew it had to be  
Something to do with you  
I really don't mind what happens now and then  
As long as you'll be my friend at the end_

- 3 Doors Down – Kryptonite

* * *

For a whole week Vincent and Reno did nothing but play video games and watch movies, sometimes together and sometimes not. Reno mostly stuck to his couch (somehow having established ownership of it) trying to beat his score in as many games as possible. When Vincent wasn't around to watch or to join, he read from a book he had secretly stashed under the cushions.

Vincent liked to sit out on the back porch and watch the landscape. He thought about many things, and since his body hardly recognised the freezing cold bite of the wind, he was able to do this for hours.

He mostly thought about what his life might be like when Hojo's demons were permanently removed, or what it might be like to ponder these things with a clear head. As it was, the remaining demons—Hellmasker, Death Gigas, and Chaos—tortured his every waking moment with chatter. Then they did their best to prevent him sleep. Pretty soon, Vincent figured they would sink their claws in to his dreams as well.

Curiously, the only time he could ever get them to quiet down was when he was around Reno. At first he had thought it might have something to do with how irritating the redhead could be, but very quickly he realised the truth. Vincent didn't like to lie, especially to himself. Reno brought a sense of comfort, of calm and safety. It was strange because he really was none of these things in reality. Vincent used to regard him as a nuisance.

He now regarded him as a friend.

As for what Reno thought of him, he was unsure. The man stayed with him when he suffered through treatments; whether out of pity or anything else, it certainly couldn't be an order to rub Vincent's back as he heaved in to the toilet, or clean the vomit from his mouth afterwards.

Vince thought about their relationship so often that it spurred an awkward conversation one morning over bacon and eggs.

Reno had a forkful of the scrambled mess to his lips when Vincent suddenly spoke.

"I appreciate what you've done for me, Reno."

What that the fork clattered on to the table with a twitch of Reno's fingers. Hurrying to pick it back up, Reno stared anywhere but at Vincent. After a moment, he placed the fork back on his plate and replied, "Uh, no problem, Vince. I'd do the same for anyone else."

"Would you?" Vincent mumbled, almost as if asking himself. "For a stranger? I might not even for a friend. You are a better person than I."

"Maybe not a stranger..." Reno laughed.

"Is that not what you've been doing?"

"You're not a stranger, Vince. To me you're like Rude, or Elena, you know..." He let the statement hang and, embarrassed, excused himself from the table mumbling about using the 'little mens room'.

Vincent found it hard to believe Reno held him in the same light as he must have held Rude, but he could understand the comparison to the other Turks, perhaps. Coworkers, then? A colleague?

He would have to ponder on that some more.

* * *

Three nights in to the second week, Vincent's demons were at their worst.

Vincent was on his knees in bed, hunched forward with one hand clutching at his forehead, the other gripping the headboard so hard it was shaking. He grit his teeth in agony, refusing to scream. "Just let me sleep," he hissed.

They didn't.

The headboard snapped with a crack that echoed through the room. Angrily Vincent stumbled out of bed and flung open his door, walked across the hall to Reno's, and took a little more care opening it.

When Reno woke, he wasn't sure why. It all began to clear for him when his bedroom door slowly opened. He resisted the urge to tense—after all, it was only he and Vincent here. Who else would dare risk infection?

"Vincent?" He asked, throwing the covers to the side and thanking the stars he was wearing track pants. "What's wrong?"

"No, just..." Vincent almost tripped over his own feet trying to intercept Reno before he could stand. "Just help me to sleep, please, just tonight." He pushed Reno back down and crawled beside him, his face pressed against Reno's ribcage. "I think I'm losing my mind."

Reno thought he was too. "Uh, Vince, what the hell-?"

"We're friends, right? You make them go away. I don't know why, but please just-" he stopped, taking a shaky breath. "I need to sleep."

Reno lay still, eyes wide, as he watched the other man drift off quickly, his hand resting on Reno's stomach. A blush fell to his cheeks when Vincent's even inhales and exhales created goosebumps along his chest. "Shit," he mumbled, shifting around until he'd managed to align their heads, tilting his own away. "What the hell is going on?" After getting the blankets pulled up again, he settled in for a long night.

By morning Reno knew two things. One—the ceiling was stucco, and two—he was dramatically warmer than he'd been any other night here.

The clock read 9:24am when Vincent finally stirred from his slumber, his body going through a ritualistic stretch that had Reno twitching. He thought quick about whether he should appear asleep. He decided it would be less awkward to talk about it over breakfast, so he shut his eyes and evened his breaths.

He waited for Vincent to get up and leave, and was surprised when instead the man tensed, paused, and relaxed his body again. He didn't move.

Terrified to open his eyes and make his own escape, Reno stayed put as well.

The closing of his eyes finally must have been the trigger his body needed because he soon fell asleep.

When he woke again the clock said 8:13pm and Vincent was gone. He struggled out from the blankets and threw on a sweater. Taking the steps two at a time it was almost easy to forget what had happened. Yet when he rounded the corner and saw Vincent out on the patio, his profile staring up to the sky, he knew they would have to talk.

He knocked on the glass door just twice and watched Vincent turn around. He saw the guilt flash across his face, and saw it leave just as fast. Reno sat down at the kitchen table and waited for the other man to join him.

When the screen door slid open, instead of letting Vincent get the first word like he knew he wanted, he said, "I am your friend."

Vincent's eyes flicked to his and Reno smiled, trying his best to assure Vincent he wasn't angry. "And I don't mind being the kryptonite to your baddies." Vincent sat. "But you owe me an explanation."

Vincent shook his head slowly. "I don't know if I have one to give." His voice cracked, betraying his smooth expression.

"Why does it have to be physical? The last time, back at Shinra, you touched my ankle. This was a little bit more extreme..." He laughed a little. "I don't care, it's not like I'm gay, I just don't get it."

"I suppose it's so I have something else to focus on, or to feel. I can distract my mind with senses that are foreign to it." Vincent thumbed at a crack in the table. "To be honest it doesn't make sense to me either, but it works."

Reno seemed to accept that, because his reply held an amused tone. "Maybe next time give me a warning before you jump me?"

Vincent's pained grimace spurred more laughter from the man, but in that moment he heard the silent permission Reno had allowed him.

_If I can help you, I will._

* * *

A few nights later Vincent woke up screaming, eyes whipping wildly around the area as he sat up in bed. He reacted on instinct when he saw Reno, not immediately recognising the man for who he was and instead saw fire and darkness, blindly reaching forward with his gauntlet that was not a gauntlet anymore but he felt like it was. He tried to shove his arm in to Reno's stomach, shocked when the Turk caught it in his own grasp. "Calm, Vincent," Reno muttered, shoving the arm down and sliding on to the bed. "You've been talking in your sleep for hours." Vincent knew he had probably been louder than simply speaking, if his raw throat was anything to say about that.

Reno lay beside Vincent for a moment, waiting for the man to stop shaking. He didn't ask what he had been dreaming about – it could be any one of the many horrors the pale man had endured in his long lifetime, and he didn't feel it beneficial to bring a dark thing to the light again. Instead he nestled his face in to the crook of Vincent's neck and let his breath express what he couldn't voice. He long stopped being embarrassed by the intimacy of the situation – it was a common event now. He looked at it as a friend helping a friend because he would do the same for Rude, for Elena, for Tseng. Hell, probably even Rufus.

He would be lying, though, to say he didn't get his own sort of comfort doing this.

Vincent wasn't the only Turk, former or not, that had nightmares.

"It's cold," Vincent mumbled several moments later, staring at the ceiling.

"It's fuckin' winter, man."

"Colder than usual," Vincent elaborated, rolling his eyes when he felt the smirk against his neck. "The heat isn't off, is it?"

Not that the heat had been on much in the first place, as that would defeat the purpose of their staying here, but Reno was starting to notice the chill as well. He listened for the quiet hum of the furnace and frowned. "That's weird," he said, lifting himself to a sitting position. "I'll go check."

The thermostat downstairs read that it was turned on to it's normal setting, but it didn't appear to be working. Reno tapped it with his index finger roughly, and cursed. "I'm gonna call the office!" He called up the stairs, picking the land-line up off the coffee table as Vincent started to descend the stairs.

"Fuck," he hissed, putting the phone back down. "There's no tone."

Vincent glanced out of the front window in to the dark night and felt a quiet fear start to rise in his chest. Thanks to Hojo's tampering with his body, he could withstand the freezing cold temperatures for any length of time wearing his usual clothing, but Reno was another story. While the Turks weren't strangers to mako in the workplace, there couldn't be enough in Reno's system to get him through any longer than a day or two.

"I could walk to Icicle Inn," Vincent suggested, "and find some way to contact Tseng there."

"In this weather? I know you're good man, but it'll take you a full day just to get there, probably longer in the snow. I'll freeze my ass off by then."

"We don't really have any other option."

Reno sighed. "Alright, hold on, just let me think. What if, I don't know, I zapped the freaking furnace with my mag rod? Get the juice pumping again?"

Vincent's lip curled down in a frown, seeing many faults with this plan, the biggest being Reno setting the place on fire and forcing them out in to the cold anyway. Before he could voice his concerns, though, Reno had swept himself upstairs to grab his weapon.

"Reno, I don't think-" Vincent began, but it was too late. He made a noise of protest as Reno repeatedly zapped the thermostat, but thankfully nothing happened.

"Fuck I thought for sure that would fix it," Reno said, pulling his sweater tighter around his body.

Vincent shook his head and started to pull his boots on, deciding to just make the trip to Icicle Inn as fast as he could. The longer they waited the worse the situation could become. "At least let me come with you," Reno said. "They'll have heated buildings. I could make it."

"You have a higher chance of spreading the infection," Vincent replied, buttoning up his coat.

Reno had almost entirely forgotten the reason they were there and he cursed aloud, kicking the couch. "Shit, yeah..." He rubbed his eyes and shrugged. "Just be fast, I guess."

Vincent nodded and opened the door. "I won't be long-"

The room exploded in front of him, and the last thing he saw before he blacked out was Reno's head smacking to the floor, bright red hair mingling with the roaring fire.


End file.
